


A Little Nap Couldn't Hurt Anything

by izzybelledot



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Awkward Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Bittersweet, Character Death, Character Study, Cold, Cold Weather, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Freezing to death, Gen, Ghost TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Lonely TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Older Sibling Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Post-Exile Arc on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Pre-Doomsday, Suicidal Thoughts, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Whump, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, but it's more backround tbh, but not really?, but only for the first chapter, ghostinnit, in the form of selective amnesia, will add tags later as story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29521914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzybelledot/pseuds/izzybelledot
Summary: Tommy had been walking for hours.Maybe he should have waited before setting off, should have taken the time to heal the burns and cuts that littered his skin, and sew up the holes in his threadbare clothing. Maybe he should have finally gotten around to replacing the shoe he’d lost, to making a coat, or stopping to get some food.It didn't really matter in the end.
Relationships: TommyInnit & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF) & Everyone, Tommyinnit & Healing
Comments: 66
Kudos: 677





	1. Chapter 1

Tommy had been walking for hours.

Maybe he should have waited before setting off, should have taken the time to heal the burns and cuts that littered his skin, and sew up the holes in his threadbare clothing. Maybe he should have finally gotten around to replacing the shoe he’d lost, to making a coat, or stopping to get some food. 

But he’d felt sick in Logstedshire, and felt if he stayed for even another second- he would break down and vomit. 

He hadn’t stopped to take anything, left only with his compass. 

The wind howled fiercely against him, near-deafening against his ears as he trudged forward through what was now ankle-high snow. He knew Technoblade lived in that direction, Dream had told him himself. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest to trust that, but Tommy didn’t think Dream would lie to him about something so random. And in any case- it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go.

His hands had stopped shaking a minute or so ago, though he couldn’t quite remember when they’d started. Dimly; he was aware that wasn’t a good thing. He should be shivering, his body should be struggling visibly to keep him warm and alive.

But he hasn’t put way too much effort into keeping himself alive for a while, so he shouldnt've been surprised that even his own body would give up at some point. Everyone around him gave up on him at some point, and in the end, he knew that he was at least partially to blame. If he wasn’t; then at least one person would have stuck by him. 

He was like Wilbur before his death- a shell of who he once was. Nothing left to save, nothing left to fight for.

He hadn’t ever wanted to be the bad guy, hadn’t ever wanted to be the hero either. No matter what Wilbur, Technoblade, or Dream had said. He’d just wanted freedom, his disks, and his friends. If that was too selfish, then he supposed he was just selfish. He just didn’t want to be alone.

He’d really lost everything, hadn’t he?

He stopped, body pitching forward for a moment before righting itself. He looked towards the sky, light snow settling delicately against his flushed cheeks and making him blink lethargically to keep it from falling into his eyes. It was beautiful in a way, how the snow would seem to dance through the air, falling inevitably to rest amongst all the snow that had fallen before it. Like sand trickling down an hourglass, or water draining from a cracked bowl with little drips.

Drip

Drip

Drip

His chin fell forward against his chest, the skin on his neck feeling cold against the underside of his chin. He really should get a blanket, it was too peaceful of a day not to cuddle up in one. He used to do that with his family, cuddling up in front of a quiet fire with what felt like a mountain of blankets divided up between them. Techno had always been begrudgingly physically affectionate, though he never really initiated the contact. Wilbur was the one who typically initiated the touch, Philza being calmer but just as loving with it. 

Tommy smiled to himself, loosening his arms from where they were curled around his chest. 

He felt warmer at the thought.

He bent his knees, wincing at the sharp creaking sound which accompanied the action as he settled down. He was so sore, so exhausted from constantly working on Logstedshire. It had been hard enough with Dream blowing up his tools and food all the time, but the constant loneliness had been what had really broken Tommy.

He had worked tirelessly to build a bridge to L’Manburg, to make his spot in exile presentable and welcoming for visitors. Because he could stand the cold and the hunger, could stand the frustration from the unfairness of it all, could stand Dream mocking and destroying his progress every day, if only he wasn’t alone.

But he had always been alone.

Dream was the only one who visited, cooing soft words of encouragement and bitter reminders that his old friends didn’t care about him. It was enough to drive him crazy, the instinct to lean into Dream when he gave him a hug versus the urge to scream and claw and fight back against the man who placed him in the situation. 

He woke up drowning, screaming as water forced its way down his throat and into his lungs, choking on the salty chill of the liquid as he forced his head above the tides and gasped in breaths that never seemed to fill him. He found his gaze transfixed by lava, wondering if he would feel warm if he got closer.

He missed warmth.

He blinked sleepily, snow was falling a bit harder now, and it was fascinating how quickly the snow was accumulating around him. Was this what it felt like to be old? To see small pieces of nothing building up and becoming something before you realized it?

He chuckled to himself, pulling at the bandages encircling his forearms. At first, it had been mainly to ward off the sun’s rays than anything, but after weeks of minor incidents, they’d become necessary. 

Dream had knocked him on the back as they traveled through the nether, and he’d landed on a magma cube which burned the entirety of his forearms to shit. Dream had helped him cool off, canceling his plan to take Tommy to the Christmas tree to wrap his wounds instead.

He shook the memory from his head, not wanting to deal with the conflicting feelings at the moment. He just wanted to enjoy the peace of the snow building up around him.

He would keep walking later, he was in such a pretty spot. 

There was a cluster of stone to his right, looking vaguely like a crude imitation of a turtle if he really focused, a singular spruce tree swayed a bit behind him and provided a gentle shushing sound. 

He wasn’t disappointing anyone here, wasn’t in anyone’s way, or hurting anyone. 

He’d never wanted to do that, he’d just wanted to have fun- to be himself.

But maybe that's why people were hurt.

His head was filling slowly with a pleasant buzzing, and when he let his head fall backward, he found a soft pillow of snow behind it. He let out a small sigh, his fingers feeling too clumsy and tried to brush his long bangs out of his eyes so he let them close to avoid the irritation.

He would continue on to Techno’s house in a moment, but for now, he might as well take a nap.

Techno wasn’t expecting him after all, he wouldn’t care if Tommy didn’t show up. He would get to the house in a while, maybe Techno would let him stay for a while. 

Techno had always known Tommy hated to be alone.

He felt himself fall into a deep sleep, the snow softly embracing his body and encompassing it.

It wasn’t as cold.


	2. Snowfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy visits his big brother.

If Tommy had known that Techno would be so awkward about him coming to visit, he probably wouldn’t have come.

At the moment, he can’t quite remember why he did come in the first place, but that wasn’t especially important. Technoblade was staring up at him in shock from where he had been sharpening a sword. The whetstone was hanging loosely in his hand, the sword’s blade pressing into the couch in a way that worried Tommy about ripping it. Honestly, his brother had never been the most vocal, but he certainly could've been doing better than this.

“What, didn’t expect to see me up and kicking, bitch? Thought I’d die in Logstedshire and never visit? Can’t get rid of me that easy, fucker!”

Techno didn’t reply for a moment before he set down his sword on the coffee table carefully. Tommy resisted the urge to shift around. He looked back at Tommy with those wide eyes that were beginning to grate on his nerves. 

“How are you here?”

Tommy let out a scoff, the present chill on his arms encouraging him to walk towards the quiet fireplace. “I walked, bitch! You live far away you know, it was exhausting to get here. Put me straight to sleep!”

Techno’s eyes narrowed slightly, closer to expressing confusion than he usually got. “You fell asleep on the way here?”

“That's what I said,” Tommy groaned. He rubbed his hands together, a bit peeved at how he still felt chilly. “Took a quick nap in the snow. Why don’t you have any sort of road going that way?”

“Tommy, can you take me there?”

Tommy glances at Techno, a bit thrown off by the serious look on his face. He felt the least he could've done was answer his question, but he'd berate him for that later. He let out a dramatic groan before nodding in agreement. Normally he might’ve tried to argue some more, but Techno had been surprisingly unantagonistic, and Tommy figured it might’ve been an off day for him or something. “Alright, but I want a coat first, you can’t march me to death.”

Techno nodded, moving to throw a spare cloak from his closet at him. Despite the offhand nature of the action, Tommy couldn’t help but feel a bit touched by it. The cloak was a soft icy blue, shorter than Techno’s other capes- but still long enough to drag behind him. It had likely been one of Philza's to be honest, though the blue color was off. Tommy snagged a golden apple on his way out the door, ignoring Techno’s grumbling. 

“Alright, it’s this way. The wind’s seemed to die down, lucky us.”

It was true, the wind still made noise, but it wasn’t chilling to the bone the way it had been. He was cold anyway of course, but it wasn’t stabbing. Still, he couldn’t help but feel he’d never be warm again.

“How far is it?”

“An hour maybe,” Tommy guessed. “Tell me if you need a break.”

Techno didn’t reply, walking forward with his eyes straight ahead. That simple habit had always made Techno seem bigger to Tommy, higher than any silly problem they might've been facing. It had been comforting at times, intimidating at others. He couldn't decide at the moment which one was currently applicable. 

Even now, he couldn’t help but notice how _tall_ Technoblade really was. His cloak barely skimming the snow while Tommy could see out of the corner of his eye with a turned head that his dragged a good foot or so behind him. He was sure that if he looked back, there would be sweeping tracks from where he had walked. He didn’t bother looking back though, only walking forward optimistically. 

It really was a nice day, maybe when they got back he would lay outside in the snow for a while. The cape was probably big enough to buffer him from the snow.

Finally, the area came up, the lone spruce tree with the strange cluster of rocks. There was a little mound of snow between them, likely a snow pillow he’d fashioned for himself.

“Here it is,” Tommy chirped. “I fell asleep right there, I never realized how soft the snow was before.”

Techno didn’t reply, just moving forward and dropping to his knees to dig through the snow. Tommy tilted his head a bit before turning to jump atop the rocks. The sides were rough, but not enough to make the little scramble uncomfortable. He looked to the sky, trying to catch a snowflake on his tongue.

The snowfall wasn’t especially heavy, and he didn’t catch one- but it was still calming. He glanced back at Techno, seeing the snowy mound being carved out carefully from the surrounding snow. He didn’t exactly understand why, but Techno had always been an odd fellow. Still, he was curious.

“What’cha got there?”

Techno didn’t bother answering (again), so Tommy let out an agitated sigh before hopping down to make his way over. The mound was shaped a bit like an igloo if he tilted his head, he could vaguely remember Techno hadn’t ever been one to play in the snow as a child. 

“Ugh, this is so boring,” He complained. Techno chuckled lowly, obviously just electing to ignore him for the more part. Which was fine, Tommy had never particularly minded ranting to a wall. It relaxed him in a way, but right now he didn't feel like it. He felt much calmer- he would take advantage of the opportunity to talk Techno's head off later.

Tommy waited for a minute, watching as Techno diligently carved out something he couldn't see. Then he did something strange, digging his hands underneath the mound and pulling it up.

It was connected to something.

Tommy stared at it for another minute, making out bits of blonde poking out, the distinct shape of a neck attached to the mound. He leaned forward and scooped out a small clump of snow from the top of the mound, and the skin of an eyelid stood out against the snow. His eyelid. 

“Oh,” He breathed out, watching as Techno brushed the snow off his face as best he could manage. He hadn’t realized his face had been so burned before he left, the explosions from Logstedshire had really taken a number on him. “I’m dead.”

Techno let out a loud bark of laughter, incredulously looking at him. Tommy might've guessed he didn't care if it wasn't for the slightly crazed look in the other's eyes. “That's all you have to say? You died and then showed up at my house as a ghost and that's it?”

Tommy hummed a bit, not bothering to raise to Techno’s bait. Alive he would’ve, but he felt calmer right now. And by prime, that was strange to think about. He wondered if that's what it’d been like for Ghostbur, the faint buzzing along his memories stilling his emotions. “I mean, I hadn’t realized it before to be fair. Fuck, why did I think it was a good idea to take a nap there?”

Techno just laughed, shaking his head a bit. “You were never the sharpest tool in the shed, Tommy.”

“I’ll show you sharpest tool in the shed,” Tommy grumbled back, shoving at Techno’s shoulder. His arm passed through a bit, and Tommy awkwardly returned the hand to his side. It stung a bit, as Tommy suddenly recalled how desperately he’d wanted a hug before he’d died. 

He suddenly realized the last person to ever touch him was Dream. Dream with a sympathetic coo as he cupped the side of his face after blowing up Logstedshire. He remembered how the soot had been pressed into the scrape on his check, how he had leaned into the hand despite what he'd just seen.

An issue for another day.

“Can we go?”

Techno shakes his head. “I need to dig out your body, Tommy. So you can get buried.”

“Oh yeah,” Tommy mused to himself. “Do you think they’ll bury me, Techno?”

Techno’s already on his knees in the snow, cupping out handfuls of snow from his still-covered body. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“They never buried Wilbur.”

Techno stills for a moment, sending Tommy a look he can’t quite decipher. “They didn’t?”

“No,” Tommy replies, memories flooding his mind. “At first they just said they didn’t have time, then people just sort of forgot. I asked Quackity once, he said Wilbur was a traitor.”

“So was Schlat.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed. “Where would I be buried, Techno?”

He was helping now, absently wondering why he can interact with the snow and the cape but not Techno. 

“Where would you want to be buried, Tommy?”

He hummed to himself as he considered it. Not Logstedshire, that's for sure. Not Pogtopia, L’Manburg maybe. He can’t seem to remember anything about Pogtopia or L’Manburg at the moment, only a sour taste to them. “Somewhere quiet I think, but somewhere people could visit me. I think I was lonely before I died.”

“Lonely?”

“Yeah,” Tommy replied easily as he pushed snow out of the body’s sleeves. “I was in exile? And no one wanted to visit me, and I was alone and I even made up friends so I could have conversations. Like the astronaut Clara.”

Techno glanced at him, finally tugging Tommy’s boots out of the snow where they’d been hidden. “Didn’t you have visitors?”

“I had Dream,” Tommy recalled. “Dream said he was my only friend, but Ranboo and Big Q and Badboyhalo all visited. That was nice, Bad even gave me a disk.”

Techno looked at him oddly as he settled back in the snow. “Dream said that?”

“Mhm! He was quite confusing. I hated him, and then he taught me he was my friend and then he was my only friend and then I lied to him,” Tommy explained. His head was starting to ache, the memories coming at him in order like the pounding of a sledgehammer. “And then he blew up Logstedshire, and then I towered, and then I realized he wasn’t my friend-“

“You towered?” 

“I,” His breath caught in his throat, despite him not actually having to breathe. “I made a tower of dirt and logs as far as I could. Then I just sat there and thought about everything. I realized Dream didn’t fucking care about me. Then I jumped.”

“You jumped?”

“Into the water,” Tommy clarified. He hesitated for another moment, recalling his mindset. “I don’t think that was the plan though… I-“

His mind felt strangely blank for a moment as if his brain was trying to turn itself inside out. “Technoblade, was I suicidal?”

Techno stayed quiet, visibly conflicted. Tommy felt dread building up in his throat, sucked into the memories of exile he thought he'd left behind. He thought he had escaped. 

The memories pounded against his skull, each too blurred to view properly under the onslaught. “I remember staring at lava and almost drowning and forgetting to heal myself for hours. Techno did I kill myself?”

“Did you?”

The memories were faint now, distant and fuzzy. He could only glean the feeling of hopelessness, exhaustion, and cold. He couldn’t see anything, didn’t know why he was looking in the first place. “I don’t know,” He answered honestly. “It’s all a blur.”

Techno sighed, but it wasn’t angry or frustrated. In fact; Techno just sounded tired. “I don’t know if I’m glad or not,” He admitted. "That you don't remember, I mean."

Tommy thought he might agree.

“Can we go now?”

Techno scooped Tommy’s corpse into his arms, and Tommy wondered if he’d always been so small in comparison. His body had burns over every patch of available skin, scars and open cuts everywhere as well. The bandages didn’t cover much, and his clothes were full of tatters. Tommy could see his ribs jutting out from under the thin shirt. Techno shifted his arm to cover where Tommy had been staring, and Tommy knew it was intentional. “Yeah.”

They started walking quietly, but everything feels so much different to Tommy now. The wind ruffles Techno’s cloak, but Tommy’s is still where it drags behind him. There are no tracks in the snow aside from Technos, and if he concentrated he could see the odd snowflake or two fall through his arm. 

Tommy spaces out at some point, feeling for the first time- not real. Like he could just fade into nothing at any moment. It’s scary to think that's a genuine possibility. When Techno’s cabin comes into view, Tommy isn’t sure how to feel. Techno stopped before going inside for a moment before sighing. 

“I can’t take it inside- I need to keep your body cold,” He explained. “But I’ll have to bury it in the snow to keep mobs from it.”

Tommy nods, tentatively grabbing an iron shovel resting against the side of the house and scooping snow out to make a shallow grave. It’s odd to assist in digging your own grave, but it feels a bit like a fresh start to him. It’s not really, of course, his memories are thee, no matter how fickle. But it feels like maybe he could get healing or closure of sorts. 

“Am I really Tommy?”

Techno considers him for a moment before looking down. “I don’t know, you’re more present than Ghostbur.”

“What should I call myself then?”

Techno drops the first scoop of snow onto his corpse, it fans out over his chest and beneath his arms. “I don’t know, Frostinnit? Ghostinnit? You still feel like Tommy.”

This is more vulnerability than Tommy’s ever heard from Techno, and some part of him is bitter for it. That his brother hadn’t tried to be close to him until he died, but he knew it was equally his fault. 

Tommy had always thought that Ghostbur could ask whatever he wanted since he was dead, if only because everyone pitied him just enough. He had envied it at times, so he figured he might as well try it out.

“Do you think we could be brothers again?”

“We can try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it's not clear; Tommy can remember almost everything-but only if he's reminded of it first. When he tries to remember things too fast he can become easily overwhelmed, due to him literally reliving the memories as if for the first time mentally. He doesn't remember his death too clearly.


	3. Looking Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brother bonding time.

“Did you ever regret it?”

Tommy didn’t look up from his work, not wanting to make it more difficult for Techno than it already was. He and Techno had never been touchy-feely, and he wasn’t about to ruin whatever this conversation was turning into. “Regret what?”

“Building your government, dying for it.”

He considered it for a moment, disappointingly throwing the yellow dye onto the table before him. He hadn't known what he'd expected. “I’m sure I did at some point, during exile at least. But I had to defend it.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Tommy just sighed a bit to himself, a little sad and a little wistful. He brushed some snow off the orange sitting before him. “It was Wilbur, Technoblade. It’s all I had left of him.”

Techno was quiet for a moment before he sighed and sat on the couch next to Tommy. “What are you doing, anyway?”

“Choosing a color.”

Techno blinked at him, wondering vaguely if Tommy had finally lost it. “A color?”

“Yeah, like Ghostbur,” Tommy explained as he picked up the white dye. Techno’s breath hitched in his chest, but he didn’t show it. “Ghostbur has a color he gives to be all cryptic and shit, and I need one too now.”

“Heh?”

“So I can fuck with people,” Tommy deadpanned. “And so I can give em some comfort without being clingy and shit.”

Techno let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head fondly at his brother’s antics. “Still tryin to follow Wilbur. Remember when you tried to learn guitar when he started?”

Tommy groaned, sending a mock glare at Techno. The memory was embarrassing now that he remembered it, but it was fond as well. “I was a child, and I sounded damn good for being self-taught.”

“YOU BROKE THE GUITAR!”

“FUCK OFF, IT WAS FINE. IT WAS ONLY ONE STRING!”

Techno nearly curled over himself as he laughed, Tommy’s own laugh driving him to hysterics. Maybe it wasn't just because of the memory, maybe he and Techno just needed to release all their pent-up emotions- but Tommy didn't care. It felt nice to let it go. He could remember Wilbur’s horrified face as he had accidentally snapped the string, could remember Philza trying in vain to hold back his amusement with Tommy’s mistake. He’d tried so hard to play guitar but hadn’t known how.

They'd been so young and happy, so carefree.

They calmed down eventually, leaning against each other on the couch with various dyes spread on the low table before him. There was one still clutched in Tommy’s hand, a deep rose red. He smiled at it for a moment before frowning in confusion and glancing up at the table.

“Techno?”

“Hmm?”

“Wasn’t I-“ Tommy hesitates, unsure if he was seeing things. “Wasn’t I just holding white dye?”

Techno looked down at the red before glancing at the table, finding every dye except for white. The identical red dye on the table was the icing on the cake there. “Yes?”

“Oh,” He clutched the red tighter in his hands, liking the way it stained his fingers. For a moment, it almost looked like he was more visible where the dye had barely stained him. Like he was alive. “Didn’t Ghostbur say his blue started blank?”

“Until it sucked the sadness out of him, yeah,” Techno replied, a fond smile on his lips. “I thought he was crazy.”

“Me too,” Tommy chuckled, remembering holding the blue dye from his brother. “Mine’s cooler though. Red is very poggers.”

“Theseus,” Techno groaned. “It’s just a color-“

“Bitch! It’s **my** color, give it some respect!”

“IT’S A COLOR-“

“BITCH! FUCK YOU BITCH, SHIT FUCK!”

Techno glared at him, huffing out a long breath before flopping back on the couch dramatically. “I wasn’t even talking anymore- how rude.”

Tommy just grinned at him brightly, tossing his red at Techno. Techno caught it easily but didn’t set it down. Tommy ignored how it warmed his heart a bit. “Yeah, well, you deserved it. Clingy bitch.”

Techno just chuckled at him, sitting forward a bit to look at the dye. “You didn’t seem sad when the dye changed colors. Is yours a different emotion?”

Tommy stared at the dye, fondly remembering the memory with Wilbur again. “Happiness maybe? Not to get rid of it, but just focused.”

“Of course yours would be that,” Techno chuckled, not unkindly. “You deserved more happiness in your life, Theseus. But you always gave it to others anyway.”

Tommy smiled a bit, it was nice how his brother worded things. He could remember Techno reading their family stories at times, or making them up. His word choice was always made Tommy feel as if it were more personal to him. It was just uniquely Technoblade. 

“Thanks, Techie.”

Techno snorted a bit, pulling himself off the couch and wandering over to a chest. There was something bitter in it, not resentful, just sad. “Been a while since I heard that nickname, thought I was just ‘The Blade’ now.”

Tommy remembered when he’d stopped calling Techno ‘Techie,’ it had been around when Techno and Philza had started exploring together. When Techno had come back from trips with more blood on him and wealth in his inventory. When his brother felt more distant but just as incredible to him. Like a myth- untouchable to him. “I thought you were too cool for it, you were a warrior and shit.”

Techno paused, pulling something from the chest and looking back at Tommy with a look he couldn’t decipher. His eyes were intense, near all-consuming. Techno had that effect on people when he used his undivided attention. And while it wasn’t the first time he’d been under it- it certainly wasn’t a common experience. 

“That doesn’t mean I stopped being your brother, Toms.”

Tommy stared at him for a moment, mind strangely blank. “Oh,” He finally said. “I don’t think I knew that; when I was alive.”

“Yeah,” Techno replied, turning away. “I guess I didn’t ever tell you that.”

They were silent, the previous atmosphere seemingly never there. Except for how it hung in the back of Tommy’s mind. He wished he could remember it forever; he couldn’t recall many happy memories with his brother- none recent anyways. Then Techno grunted, nonverbally asking for his attention. Tommy looked up and smiled in disbelief.

On the wall was his red, perched in an item frame with a name tag. _Theseus’ First Red_

He was standing next to it then, or floating a bit anyways. He’d been trying to float more, liking how it felt to not have to touch the floor. It felt strange to see the red behind the glass like it was displaying the fond memory for him anytime he wanted. He could remember the memory of laughing on the couch with Techno just by looking at it- and it made him feel warm and breathless. “Oh,” He breathed out, a giddy smile on his face. “I really like this. Thank you, Techie.”

Techno just chuckled, a bit softer than last time. “Of course, Tommy.”

Tommy thought he would have to get more white dye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the positive feedback and comments made me really excited and I got the motivation. I had fun writing this, and it felt very natural so I hope you like it!
> 
> I did a bit of a different take (I think) on Ghostbur's blue. Tommy's red infuses it with happy memories and allows him to remember them while looking at it. It's a way for Tommy to keep the joy he feels. :D


	4. Oblivious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L'Manberg welcomes back its fallen hero.

Tommy didn’t know why Techno was so eager to get him to L’Manburg. They’d been getting along great; better than they did when he was alive. But he supposed him showing up out of nowhere as a ghost hadn’t exactly been what Techno had expected from his week.

It was exciting to be going there anyway. He couldn’t seem to remember much about L’Manburg yet, though he had an idea as to why. He had only remembered Dream’s manipulation after Techno’s question brought it up, only remembered he was dead when he saw his own corpse. 

Ghostbur wasn’t like that, he knew because he had asked Techno that morning why he could only remember a little. 

Techno had suggested that he could only remember things if he was reminded. He could only remember his passions if someone else cared enough to remind him. The only outlier seemed to be the red dye, the three he’d made with Techno during his stay had let him remember whatever good memory had happened while he had made it. It was nice but didn’t change what Tommy knew the partial memory had to mean.

For the lonely death he had suffered, he supposed it made sense. He couldn’t change much on the server, because people would have to know and care about him enough first for it to even be an option. They would have to care enough to ask him questions unprompted.

Tommy didn’t like thinking about it, it made his head hurt.

“This is where we part ways,” Techno interrupted his thought process, not looking at him. Tommy didn’t mind that so much, Techno’s eyes were always impossible to read when he looked at him these days.

“Thank you, Techie. This place looks kinda broken this close.”

Techno chuckled bitterly, eyes never leaving the strange city before them. “It is broken in some ways, it's killed a lot of people who care about it.”

“Oh,” Tommy replied, briefly remembering a crazed grin. He didn’t dwell on it.

Techno glanced at him, a quick smile flashed his way. “You have the compass I gave you?”

Tommy nodded but didn’t take it out. Techno hadn’t labeled it and had instructed him to not put it on his hotbar belt unless he was alone and needed to. He couldn’t tell anyone where Techno lived. “So long, Theseus. Until we meet again.”

Tommy just snorted, looking at his brother with a sly grin. “Dramatic bitch.”

He walked forwards, knowing it would enrage Techno if he couldn’t get the last word in. The path he stepped onto was worn and a bit sloppy in some areas, but it felt comfortable as we walked down it. He knew L’Manburg was his home, but it also felt forbidden in a way. He didn’t dwell on it. 

He had only been walking along the path for a few minutes before he ran into someone. 

_Literally._

“Watch where you’re going, bitch!”

The person froze from where they were trying to back away from where they were partially inside of Tommy. That was a strange sentence. He couldn’t see much from them, just a beanie with a ridiculously small set of yellow wings. Finally, they stepped back, and Tommy brightened up in recognition. 

“Oh, Big Q, great to see ya.”

Quackity’s eyes were as wide as saucers as Tommy moved to pull him into a quick hug (which didn’t work) and then gesturing for Quackity to follow him along the path. He complied easily, thankfully enough. Tommy didn't really have any way of forcing him to follow, though the staring was odd. “Did you miss me? I bet it’s been quiet around here while I’ve been gone. I’m trying to find everyone, but you’re the first one I’ve seen.”

Quackity, to his credit, recovered from his shock fairly quickly. He typed something on his communicator before looking back at him. “I’ll take you to them if you answer some questions?”

Tommy barked out a laugh, faint memories of other little deals and agreements drifting to the front of his mind. “Right, Big Q! What do you want to know?”

“Are you okay?”

That hadn’t exactly been the question Tommy had been expecting, but he thought about his answer regardless. “I think so. As well as you fucking can be when you can’t remember everything I guess.”

“What can you remember?”

“Mexican Dream, and only Mexican Dream.”

Quackity laughed, sounding a bit off guard. “Really?”

“No,” Tommy snorted. “Could you fucking imagine?”

They came to a stop suddenly, and Tommy looked up.

There was a group there, Tommy realized Quackity must have messaged them. It felt...odd to see them.

He recognized all of them, but no specific memories sprung to mind right away. He knew the boy in the suit near the back was important to him, his name was Tubbo and he was his best friend before he died. He knew that the half underman boy whose gaze remained on his shoulder was Ranboo. Still; he addressed them as a crowd. Anything else would have felt ingenuine. 

“Did ya miss me, bitches?”

No one said anything for a moment, and the part of Tommy’s brain that still instinctively noticed cliffs and lava pools whispered that they didn’t miss him. But they didn’t leave him hanging for long.

“I missed you, Tommy,” Bad replied. “I think we’re all just a bit shocked at how you came back to us.”

“Oh yeah,” Tommy chuckled looking down. He knew he didn't look normal, there was snow falling around him lightly after all. Besides all the scars and bruises, his skin was partially translucent and he wasn't walking. He was still wearing the light blue cloak, Techno having hemmed the bottom. His clothes were ratty and torn up still, but that was more due to his forgetfulness than anything. He could remember Ranboo mentioning he sewed his own clothes, so he might ask him for help. “I’m all frosty and shit now.”

“Language.”

Tommy groaned though he was a bit relieved at how normal Bad was treating him. “I’m dead now, can’t I swear?”

“No,” Bad protested. The mirth in his eyes overshadowed only by his concern. 

“I think we all missed you,” Sam mentioned. “Tommy, you’re so good.”

“Good?”

“You didn’t deserve to die,” Sam explained. “You didn’t deserve to fight for so long instead of living your childhood.”

“It just sorta happened,” Tommy chuckled. “I’ve got sick scars to show for it now, too.”

He noticed Sam’s eyes flickered to where his neckline had been torn. He knew that if he glanced down there’d be a slashed scar over the area. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned the cool scars.

Thankfully, people were seeming to get over the initial shock. Niki smiled at him gently. “What would you like to be called?”

“Tommy’s fine,” He assured her. “I can remember stuff.”

“You can?” Ranboo asked hesitantly. “What kind of stuff?”

“Pretty much everything,” Tommy grinned brightly. He felt bad for Ghostbur, but couldn’t wait to see him again. They could be spirit-bros. “But my recollection is shit so I have to be reminded of it first.”

Funny’s head tilted a bit to the side. “So like a search engine.”

“Don’t fucking call me a robot ever again,” Tommy deadpanned. “I will stab you.”

“You can’t even touch him,” Tubbo chuckled. Tommy couldn’t help but think it sounded a bit hysterical, and Ranboo seemed to notice the same thing. He leaned over to whisper in his ear. Tommy just turned his gaze back to Fundy.

“I’ll find a way,” He promised him. 

"I'll hold you to that."

“Tommy, can you tell me how you died?” Bad asked, and Tommy wondered why everyone couldn't seem to look away from him. 

“Oh, I froze to death! I was trying to run away from Logstedshire, or what was left of it. I think it was an accident, but I’m not really sure anymore. Fucking bullshit, but at least I’m not alone anymore,” Tommy replied easily. 

He was oblivious to the charge of the room, calm eyes focused on Bad’s as his question comes out a bit more wobbly. “What do you mean by that? What happened to it?”

“Dream blew it up of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so much for reading. The next few chapters are going to be mainly relationship-focused, but there's no way I can get to everyone in L'Manberg. I'm only gonna pick a few before I move on to the but of plot in the story.


	5. Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L'Manberg's changes through Tommy's eyes.

Tommy hadn’t spent much time quiet when he was alive.

There wasn’t anything wrong with that; when he could remember his alive days he could never regret being loud. He was passionate and fiery and bold, it was just who he was. And his passion had scared Dream, and his passion had likely changed history. It wasn’t all him of course, but he had definitely left his mark. Wilbur had told him to do so, and he’d done so without blowing up his home.

But he spent more time quiet as a ghost.

He wasn’t lonely; he actually felt much closer to his friends than he had in a while from what he could remember. He was constantly pulling people away from their work to play- whether it be races and challenges or organizing an impromptu mass game of hide and seek or tag. People were surprisingly agreeable; though when they played tag he’d usually be it. If he stained his fingers with the dye, then it was obvious when they’d been tagged. He didn’t know why it left stains when they couldn’t feel his touch, but he wasn’t complaining.

He had connected especially with Fundy and Ranboo, Bad and Sam as well. Tubbo hadn’t talked to him much, but Sam assured him that Tubbo was just dealing with things at his own pace. Tommy knew he would wait for him.

And it wasn’t as if Tommy had time to miss Tubbo, what with him not remembering him until someone mentioned him and the constant stream of people trying to talk to him. Something in his head said they all felt guilty, that they all just wanted closure or to keep their hands clean.

Tommy didn’t think he cared much, he liked talking to them anyways.

People hadn’t stopped asking him questions since he got there; about when he was alive mostly. He didn’t know what more they wanted to know. He had told them about exile, Dream blowing up his stuff and telling him he was his only friend. Every time he retold it, it felt as though he was living through it again, and could also remember every other time he’d relived it.

_“Don’t worry,”_ He’d assured them the first time. _“I know you guys would never really abandon me, I just can’t remember it all right now._

He had gotten some weird looks when he’d said that, ones he couldn’t quite identify. He figures they might not need to know that, so he hadn’t said it again.

Sometimes it felt like he understood much less than when he was alive.

He knew there were things changing around him, but he couldn’t figure out what they were. L’Manburg’s council was in session more days than not, and often resulted in someone storming out. Tubbo had only stormed out on the first day, and after a few times, someone would always try to keep Tommy busy during the sessions. It made his chest hurt strangely whenever he saw how upset they were. He didn’t know what they were talking about completely, but he was asked questions often.

_“What does L’Manberg stand for?_

_“What do you think of the no-armor policy?_

_“Should traitors be executed?”_

He often didn’t feel like he could speak about it, but they asked him to anyways. He only sometimes remembered things without being asked direct questions, after all. So oftentimes, his statements were more based on his feelings and ideals than what was more realistic in his mind. Funnily enough, no matter what state he answered in, no one would laugh.

At least, not at him.

Sometimes, the questions weren’t about when he was alive. They would be about what being dead felt like, and if he was alright. Sometimes the questions were just requests for company or offers to play with him.

He liked playing.

He liked playing hide and seek and tag and giggling like a little kid as he ran around. He liked the mining competitions and fishing and little karaoke sessions he found himself in. It felt safe.

He smiled to himself, huddling in on himself to strive off the cold. He’d gotten more used to it, but it still caught him off guard at times. He missed Techno at times but didn't want to go back to Techno's house until things in L'Manberg settled down a bit. Until people would stop flinching when he showed up and would stop looking at him with so much guilt. He was getting there, he just had to be patient. 

There was plenty to do anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little bit of a filler chapter, but I like how it sounds from Tommy's point of view. Tommy's death defiantly would've reminded everyone of Wilbur and made them question what they could have done to prevent it. I'm not gonna say much of what changes because the story is from Tommy's point of view, but things do change. Measures are put in place to ensure that decisions are made more soundly and that L'Manberg won't cave to tyrannical requests without more consideration.


	6. Tubbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy visits Techno, and upon his return, he has a short but important conversation.

Tommy breathed in the cool air, unable to explain why he felt more at ease. Perhaps it was because he died in the cold, or maybe it was just because he was with Techno. Techno who had already apologized and hadn't made as big of a deal of him being a ghost then the others really. He loved the others, and he lived in L'Manberg- but he missed being here. 

He had told them he was going out for a few days and not to worry, and despite some hesitance, they had let him. 

Not that he needed their permission; he was a big man who could make his own decisions. 

“Things have been changing” Tommy hummed absently. “Everyone seems happier, I think. Or they’re all moving on from the fucking wars.”

“A government moving on from war? Sure, Tommy.”

Tommy frowned, wrinkling his nose pointedly at Techno, who wasn’t looking. He was tilling a field, and though Tommy had wanted to help- the till occasionally slipped through his hands and it was frustrating. Techno didn’t seem to mind, so Tommy experimented with his floating as they spoke. It was still an effort to do, though fun. “It is! Everyone’s doing council shit all the time now, they’re really working on it.”

“Power corrupts eventually, Theseus,” Techno warned. “But it’s good that they’re not hunting me down with pitchforks- apparently I was on a hit-list for a minute.”

“Oh yeah,” Tommy replied, memories rushing him. “Philza Minecraft told me about that, they had been acting all suspicious and shit. Wasn’t Fundy in on them too?”

“Yeah, nice nephew you got there.”

“Oh come on,” Tommy groaned. “He’s yours too, dickwad.”

“And Tubbo’s your responsibility,” Techno countered. “He’s government.”

Instantly, Techno felt the atmosphere shift, and a glance over his shoulder found Tommy floating back to earth absently. He frowned, waiting for a moment before addressing it. “Is he still your friend?”

“I dunno.”

Techno felt a bit incredulous, and he leaned on his till to pay more attention to Tommy. “That feels like something you should know. I dunno if this is just me, but I-“

“I haven’t seen him,” Tommy interrupted, his voice coming out harsher than he intended. “He’s busy or some shit.”

Techno didn’t reply, and Tommy once again cursed the fact that ghosts could cry. Tears didn’t escape, but it was a near thing. He rubbed his hand in the material of the cloak, the one Techno had given him. He sighed after a moment. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry.”

Techno’s till came up and over his head into the ground once more, and Tommy tilted his head back to look at the sun. “It can’t be that bad, can it? Er, I mean he doesn’t hate you, right?”

“I mean,” Tommy shifted. “I don’t think I’d remember if he did.” 

Techno shifted anxiously, unsure how to help with this. “You remember stuff-“

Chuckles came from under Tommy’s breath, bitter and sad. “I can’t even remember how I fucking died, Technoblade. Or why L’Manberg is built on a lake. Or why I feel like I’m missing someone; like I’m missing family.”

Techno didn’t know how to fix it, so he addressed what he could. “We have another brother, Tommy.”

“…We do.”

“Can you remember his name?”

Tommy’s eyes clenched shut, arms wrapped around himself in a poor excuse for a hug. He missed hugs, hugs with a warm blue coat, and a chin pressed to the top of his head. Ink stains on fingers and potion vials sticking uncomfortably out of the many pockets in his coat. “He made drugs and he wrote.”

“He did.”

“He… he sang to me when I was scared.”

Techno looked away. “Yeah.”

“Techie,” Tommy breathed out, the end of the syllable coming out broken. “Why can’t I remember his name? Or what he looked like?”

“I’m sorry The- Tommy,” Techno replied, glancing back. “Can I tell you it?”

Tommy just nodded, and Techno took a steadying breath. “His name was Wilbur.”

“Wilbur,” Tommy whispered. “Fucking Wilby.”

Techno thought about pulling the till out of the ground and giving Tommy space. But he didn’t, it felt too heavy. 

“He’s dead, isn’t he.”

“He did do that.”

“He died,” Tommy continued. “Dad killed him, but he was already dead. Like me.”

Techno felt his heart clench, the thought of both his brothers dying in such similar yet contrasting ways was too painful. Wilbur had lived long enough to become a villain who destroyed everything he had fought to build. Tommy had never gotten the chance to grow up, had been killed by Dream after giving up everything for the country which would exile him. 

People were more important than any fucking government. Tommy was more important.

“Were you?”

“I think so,” Tommy replied. “Hell if I know.”

Techno shifted his weight once again, for any preparation to see his brother again, he wasn’t prepared. “You should have made it.”

Tommy snorted in disbelief, and Techno glared at him. “You should have.”

“I died a hero’s death, Techno,” Tommy reminded him. “Just like how I was supposed to, remember?”

Techno regretted it; telling Tommy to die a hero’s death. He regretted it every time Tommy brought it up, had regretted it most fiercely when his brother’s ghost had turned up out of nowhere in the midst of his retirement. He looked Tommy in the eye, not wanting to continue the conversation any longer. “You didn’t deserve it.”

Tommy tilted his head, likely feeling similar. “Pretty sure I did, it’s a hero’s death isn’t it? I died in exile, like that one guy.”

“He literally has your name; Theseus,” Techno chuckled. “Just because you couldn’t pronounce-“

“Oi! Dickhead I can too pronounce it!”

“Go ahead then.”

“The-zees”

Techno cackled, ignoring Tommy’s answering whines and complaining. It was better than Tommy had done as a child, always pronouncing it ‘Te-seas’ or ’Teas.’ And maybe he just wanted to laugh, to forget that both he and Tommy had been right and wrong. To move on.

The laughter calmed down, Techno still chuckling as Tommy lightheartedly grumbled. Techno wished Tommy had been holding some white dye, so he could have preserved the memory. Still, he grinned at Tommy fondly before sobering at the previous conversation. He knew what he wanted to say, he’d been thinking over it for a bit now.

“I wish you had made it, Tommy.”

Tommy smiled, stretching. “Thanks, Techie.”

Techno hummed in response but thankfully didn’t ask Tommy to say the same. Tommy couldn’t say the same, and Techno knew it. It sat between them, buried beneath a thin layer. It was an issue for another time maybe, or maybe not. Techno supposed that Tommy was already buried, and it may be best to simply let the dead lie. 

It’s not like it changed anything either way.

“You staying over?”

“Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, bitch.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________ 

“Hello, Tommy.”

Tommy couldn’t help but spin around, mouth opening in shock.

Tubbo was there.

He looked different than what Tommy had seen him in recently, wearing a soft sweater and overalls. He looked exhausted of course, but there was a small smile on his face. His eyes were wet, but he seemed much more genuine for it.

“Tubbo,” He breathed out. He wanted to rush forward and give him a hug, wanted to take his hand or rub away the barely-there tears from his eyes. Wanted to touch him. But he couldn’t.

“Sorry, I know it’s taken some time.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. How are you? Are you alright?”

Tubbo chuckled, shifting back on his heels. “I’m better. I wanted to fix some mistakes before I spoke to you, get my bearings.”

“What mistakes?”

Tubbo winced, and Tommy categorized this moment under something he wouldn’t have fucked up if he had his memories. Not that it really mattered as he wouldn’t remember. He absently pulled some white out of his pocket. He wanted to catch this moment- could only hope it would be red. 

“There was a bit of a power imbalance, and no good measures for dealing with foreign powers to put it lightly,” Tubbo replied. “Mistakes that might have saved you. Mistakes I never want to happen again.”

Tommy smiled hopefully, the urge to knock his shoulder against Tubbo’s or throw a light punch to his shoulder only barely restrained. “You did your best. Shit happens, ya know?”

“I know.”

The dye remained white in his hands, there was a bit of snow building up on the ground. It happened whenever he stayed still for too long, or when he was upset he had noticed. It was quite annoying actually, but nobody seemed to give a shit so he didn’t bother cleaning up.

“Tubso, can we be friends again? I know I fucked things up, and I know you did too…”

“Yeah, Toms,” Tubbo smiled, leaning a bit into his side. It didn’t make sense really, his jumper occasionally drifted inside of Tommy’s form, and it had to be cold. But Tubbo didn’t mention it, so he didn’t either. “Best friends.”

Tommy chuckled looking out over the city. “Clingy bitch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had half a mind to title this chapter 'do it for him.'
> 
> But yeah! Hope you guys like it, it feels a bit strange writing this knowing what's going on lore-wise right now, but I like the storyline I set up too much to not. I have a more action-packed chapter planned next if all goes according to plan, and I'm super nervous about it! 
> 
> The reason Tubbo looks different is because he stepped down from President. He knew the decision to exile Tommy likely saved L'Manberg, but he doesn't want to be in that kind of position again- he just wanted to fix some policies to make L'Manberg stronger and then to move on. 
> 
> I don't want just Tommy to get healing in this series after all. :D


	7. Cliff's Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy wanted to know more about the brother he'd forgotten, and he ventures somewhere he wishes he hadn't.
> 
> He jumps in over his head.

Tommy had taken to wandering around the area when he was free.

Don’t get him wrong, reconnecting with Tubbo, Techno, Fundy, Bad, Nikki, Sam, and countless others was incredible- but it also made him exhausted somedays. Somedays he just wanted to be, when he had told Techno that, he had suggested he might’ve been used to being alone when he died. Tommy didn’t like that explanation, but he did still take walks pr ‘floats’ around on his own.

It was relaxing.

But there was something harrowing about the little cave room he found.

It wasn’t especially big, with an enderchest and a bed being the only especially noticeable features except the winding staircase towards the back. Something about it didn’t sit right with him, reminded him of the taste of dirt and ashes. 

But it also reminded him of Wilbur.

Despite his conversation with Techno, he hadn’t been able to remember much about Wilbur, when he was reminded of him he could only see little things. Until his vision would be filled with explosions and he would blank out, not remembering anything about it later on. 

This place reminded him of Wilbur, and he wanted to know more. Wilbur was his brother, according to Techno- he owed it to him to remember him. To remember who he was and what he had done.

He stepped onto the staircase, startled slightly when hi]e nearly tripped over a button. A second glance found a button perfectly in the center of almost every stair block downwards. It chilled him.

“Anyone down here?”

No one answered, but he still hesitated to continue. “Don’t be a pussy.”

He walked down.

The staircase came out into a ravine, stone with patches of cobblestone and different planks, grass every bit or so. There were more assorted buttons covering the walls, though they didn’t seem to lead to anything. He still didn’t push them.

He was standing on a ledge that led to the bottom, the fall wouldn’t kill anymore, less so would it kill him. He still didn’t get too close.

Wilbur had fallen off the ledge far too often, he recalled. Technoblade had installed railings, but Wilbur had removed them. Stupid bitch.

It was dark inside, he heard the rising of spiders and the clattering of skeletons. The one spider he could see tried lunging at him, only to crash straight through and tumbled off the edge. The edge of the ravine he stood in.

“Come on,” He grumbled, feeling as though he was about to unlock all his memories about Wilbur. As if he were teetering over a cliff's edge to tumble into them. He wondered if he’d remember if he dove off the cliff he was before, it’s not like it would hurt him.

“Fuck it.”

He jumped, floating to the ground slower than he would have liked until his shoes hit the stone below him. The noise echoed for a moment, and Tommy felt more uneasy. He didn’t know what had happened here, just like how he didn’t remember how he died, or much of what happened during exile. They were the only three things that he couldn’t seem to remember fully, the only three things that seemed so astronomically important.

_Why couldn’t he remember?_

“I was wondering when I’d see you.”

Tommy froze, the repressed memories seeming to loom over his head, just out of reach. Only a few leaked through and he found himself trying to hold the rest back. A strange foreboding came over him like he might go insane if he tried to see them all. ~~Like Wilbur had.~~

He turned around, eyes wide and breath stalling in his chest. 

It was Dream.

He had a netherite sword in his hand resting on his shoulder, full armor, and a shield as well. Tommy could see TNT hanging from his hotbar tool belt casually, a flint and steel on the other side. He couldn’t see his face, his mask seemed to strip him bare of any safety he thought he had. 

“Dream.”

Dream chuckled, swinging the sword down to rest at his side and Tommy flinched from the sudden action. He could almost imagine a smug grin accompanying the little satisfied hum. “What are you doing way out here, Tommy?”

“I-“ His words jumbled in his throat, and his hands shook beneath his cloak. He hoped Dream couldn’t tell, something in him whispered that Dream knew him better than he knew himself. “I was-“

He swallowed, a glimpse of the nether flashed through his mind. “I don’t remember.”

“Yeah, I heard you don’t remember much,” Dream replied. “You remember me don’t you?”

The tide of memories seemed so high, he couldn’t remember anyone else having so many- so many memories pounding against his futile defenses. Like the entire ocean was hanging over his head, cracking glass dripping thick salty drops over him. 

He remembered an arrow shot through his heart, he remembered the long painful respawn to follow. 

“You killed me.”

“No, Tommy,” Dream sighed as if Tommy was being delusional. “You killed yourself.”

 _‘No,’_ He wanted to reply. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t remember. No matter what he did, he could never seem to **remember.**

“I was your best friend, remember?”

He remembered the harsh feeling of his skull cracking against the harsh ground- hot blood already flowing from wounds from Dream. He remembered the laughter echoing around him as he lost feeling in his limbs and his hearing faded out.

“Then why…” He trailed off, unable to put into words what he thought he should say. He could swear he could hear his heartbeat for a moment, despite knowing he didn’t have one. A song played in the back of his mind, something about space and loneliness and a beautiful woman named Clara. It calmed him for a moment before the furious clawing of now unwanted memories slashed through it. “Why-“

“Your only friend in exile.”

The snow around him stopped midair on their descent, his mind blanked out as memories of exile forced their way to the front. How Dream blew up his things, how Dream beat him, mocked him. He remembered Logstedshire blowing up and the pillar to follow, jumping into the water and turning his gaze to the cold tundra in the distance. he remembered setting off to escape, not to die.

He remembered the cold numbing of the snow, wrapping him in its embrace.

The cold overtook him, he felt as if his teeth were clattering. But it was inside of him.

“I remember exile.”

He looked back up at Dream, strangely calm for how his hands shook violently. The dull brightness from the lantern Dream held seemed so much dimmer. Dream took a step back, but Tommy didn’t know why. Couldn’t see how his eyes were turning completely white, nor how much rage and hatred was in his expression. 

“I remember what you did.”

Dream chuckled, his grip on his sword tightening. “Now, Tommy-“

“NO!”

Dream hissed in warning as Tommy hit a panic button Fundy had built into his communicator. It would send out his location, would tell Fundy anything he said. “FUNDY, SAM, NIKI! HELP ME.”

“Shut up, Tommy. Give me the communicator. Now.”

Acid dripped off Dream’s words, and Tommy remembered when Dream used that tone. The few times he had denied Dream were brought to mind, and he flinched involuntarily. His body seemed to ache with past pains he had never really healed from. 

Old wounds opened up on his ghostly form, thick grey blood dripping from his nose and cuts along his body. 

He was reliving the experience _exactly._

“I’m your friend, Tommy. _I’m just doing what’s best for you,” _Dream cooed, seemingly unbothered by the snow around Tommy being stained with his ghostly blood. “Give me the communicator.”__

__Dream had used that line before, he could recall Wilbur using it too- in Pogtopia. The ocean loomed over him._ _

__“No,” He whimpered, nearly coughing on blood beginning to coat the inside of his mouth. He felt lightheaded and tried to breathe. His open mouth let blood trickle out, he gasped and gagged on it. “No, I don’t have to.”_ _

__“Do it, Tommy. Or I’ll-“_ _

___‘Kill you,’_ His mind supplied. _‘I will kill you, Tommy.’__ _

__Dream let out a little chuckle, holding his hand out. “Or I’ll kill Tubbo.”_ _

__“No,” Tommy growled. “You wouldn’t, you fucker.”_ _

__“I would.”_ _

__The communicator buzzed in his grip, but he couldn’t hear it really. It slipped through his grasp and shattered on the stone below as he turned incorporeal to it. His head was swimming, his form flickering violently. Dream tutted in disappointment, it sounded so familiar. _Why was it so familiar?__ _

__It was too much, he had wanted to remember- but he desperately wished he wouldn’t now. The memories trickling in _hurt,_ they hurt like daggers begins plunged into his body over and over again. Hurt like lava being dripped onto his skin or water filling his lungs. Those sensations were familiar, but he couldn’t remember why. _ _

__His head snapped back, tears streaming down his face as he let out a scream. It wasn’t human, it was louder than Tommy had ever been- heart-wrenching and otherworldly. It hurt his ears, tore at his throat, and gurgled occasionally when the blood in his mouth filled it. But it didn’t stop despite it, didn’t falter._ _

__He didn’t see Dream jump at the noise, banging his head on one of the many outcroppings of stone in Pogtopia. Didn’t see Dream swing at him with his sword only for it to pass straight through him._ _

__Didn’t see Philza, Fundy, and Quackity rush into Pogtopia._ _

__He didn’t see them take advantage of Dream’s state to knock him out, stripping him of his armor and everything on his hotbar immediately. He didn’t see them start towards him, clapping their hands onto their ears in an attempt to make it stop. Didn’t see how Funny’s more sensitive ears were pressed harshly against the side of his head. Didn’t see how Fundy stumbled out before he could destroy his hearing._ _

__They couldn’t get close, the continuous snow around him picking up and creating a miniature snowstorm around him. He was assaulted by the memories, what felt like eons of pain and betrayal and manipulation slamming into him all at once. Everything repressed from before and after his death pounded into him, replaying over and over as he struggled to comprehend any of it._ _

__Still, he screamed._ _

____Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy-_ _ _ _

__The wind picked up more and more, and the group was forced to retreat, carrying Dream out of the ravine to Sam who was still on his way. Sam, who was the warden of a recently finished prison._ _

__Dream_ _

__But Tommy didn’t know that, all he knew were the memories replaying over and over again in his head as a storm raged around him. Snow began building up along the sides of Pogtopia, and L’Manberg could hear his cries._ _

__No human could scream so loudly or for so long, but he wasn’t human anymore._ _

__

__He lost himself in the snow once more._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> Let me know what you think about the scene! It's one I've been stewing over for a bit, and I figured today was as good a day as any with the new Tommy lore today. Feel free to ask questions too! I love talking about my ideas. 
> 
> Tommy before this scene could remember facts about exile, but not really the emotional impact or mental one it had on hid. So he could tell others, but wouldn't really understand what it meant.
> 
> There's only gonna be one or two chapters left, so we'll see! Also; if you're reading this after the series is complete straight through-
> 
> go drink some water, go to the bathroom, get a snack. Take care of yourself please. :D


End file.
